Some Things Never Change
by Maeggy
Summary: Pre HBP! After the final battle at the end of sixth year, everything, and everyone, changes. How will that affect Harry and Draco when they spend the summer together?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Some Things Never Change  
  
Authors: Claire Belbusti and Maeggy Summary: After the final battle at the end of sixth year, everything, and everyone, changes. How will that affect Harry and Draco when they spend the summer together?  
  
Disclaimer: It's not ours...sad but true...  
  
A/N: So, we decided to write a fic together, since we have been sending our readers to each other's stuff so much. Thus far we have this one chapter, but we have a lot planned out. Let us know what you think!! Feel free to email Maeggy at or Claire Belbusti at and we'll get back to everyone. We're like that.  
  
"Are you sure we have the right address?"

Harry turned to look at his best friend, disbelief in his eyes. "Are you kidding me?" Over Ron's shoulder, he could see the fireworks display that was one of many battles occurring all over England. But that wasn't the issue at hand. "Ron, it's the Riddle House! You know, big scary mansion, on a hill, overlooking a graveyard...for Merlin's sake, I've been here before!"

The redhead dropped his eyes. "Just checking." They made their way up the gravel walk to the door, which was strangely unlatched. After a hesitant glance at Harry, Ron pushed it open.

It was dark inside, but Harry smelled something burning. "Ten galleons says she's upstairs." Ron looked at him with fear beginning to edge its way into his eyes. Perhaps beginning was the wrong word. It had been there ever since she had disappeared. Ever since that day in Hogsmeade, when she suddenly didn't arrive for dinner. Harry hadn't been there, he was loathe to interrupt Ron and Hermione's time together, the closest they got to dates. Yet, somehow, he was only now realizing how very worried his best friend was. He shrugged. "What? They're always upstairs." For all of the stressful situations he had been through, Harry had found that attempts to lighten the mood never worked, but he had nothing else to try.

They made their way up the stairs, wands out. Down the hall, a flickering light shone behind a door. They headed that direction, as quietly as possible. As they got close, Harry heard something., He concentrated on it, a whisper far away. "I know it'sss here. I sssmell it. A moussse for me."

He stopped in his tracks, catching Ron's sleeve. "Ron," he hissed, "I don't think we should-"

"What do you mean? We have to, she's in there." Ron stepped forward again.

"Ron, I'm telling you-"But the redhead reached out and opened the door. Harry knew what was coming before it happened. He knew what he had heard, the snake in the room. That snake could only mean one thing. He knew what was on the other side of that door, and it wasn't Hermione. Even as he registered it, he heard the familiar high pitched voice, "Avada Ked-"

Harry leaped on Ron, pulling him to the ground in the doorway and feeling the curse burn across his collar. "Damn it, Ron."

"Ah, Harry Potter. Once again." The voice made him flinch.

He stood and pulled Ron up. "Don't do anything stupid," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Then he turned to face Lord Voldemort.

"No beating around the bush this time, Potter. It's time to kill you, once and for all." The Dark Lord raised his wand, aiming at Harry. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry felt his shoulder and hip hit the ground.

That wasn't right.

He pushed himself up and looked back over his shoulder, at the body on the ground behind him. He felt it rising up from his toes, a scream that rent the darkness around the Riddle Mansion.

"No!"

A loud noise woke him up. It took a moment for him to realize it was his own scream. He sat up, cast his eyes around the impeccably neat bedroom and swung his feet off of the cot. Percy was still asleep. The clock read 6:10. Suddenly, the memories of the last twenty-four hours at the Burrow came flooding back. He couldn't stay here any longer, not like that. He stood, quietly changed his robes and drafted a polite but firm note indicating that he was leaving and not intending on returning any time soon, That done, he apparated into the Forbidden Forest and began his trek up to the school.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry settled into the armchair. It was hard to think of this as an office, he had spent so much time here. He heard the door behind him open and shut.  
  
"Mr. Potter, as nice as it is to see you, I didn't expect you for some two months. In fact, I believe you were staying at the Weasley household last I checked." Albus Dumbledore made his way behind his desk, giving Harry a rather indecipherable look.

Harry had seen the headmaster since that night, but still couldn't quite determine what the old man thought. Maybe Dumbledore didn't even know.

"Professor, I couldn't stay here. They're going through so much with Ron-" He just couldn't say it, but Dumbldore knew what he meant.

Dead.

Ron was dead and Harry just couldn't surround himself with mourning Weasleys. But there was more to it. "I mean, as much as they say I should stay, I feel I'm unwelcome."

"Unwelcome, Harry?"

Harry remembered his day at the Weasley's. It had begun with Ron's funeral. Harry hadn't spoken, he just didn't feel it was his place. Then Mrs. Weasley had insisted he come home with them. They had all acted very nice, but Harry knew.

They blamed him.

And they had every right to. Ron should still be alive, by all rights. If it hadn't been for Harry, Ron would never have been there. If it hadn't been for Harry, Hermione wouldn't have disappeared. Two of the best people he knew, one dead, one...well, she might almost be better off dead.

As much as he knew all of this, he didn't need to be told. Dinner was bearable, Mrs. Weasley had tried to make conversation, but she failed miserably. Bill had arrived late, in the middle of the meal. He had missed the funeral, but he knew what happened, Ginny had sent him a letter in Egypt. At sixteen, his youngest brother had died. As the family found renewed grief, Harry found backs turned to him. Percy hadn't as much as looked at him, bar a glare, since he arrived. Fred, George, and Charlie, while much more accepting of Harry's presence, were still as yet unable to include him in their mourning. It seemed only Ginny was there to share it with him.

After some immeasurable amount of awkward time, Harry had left and gone upstairs to the room he was to share with Percy. He got changed and started to go to bed, but couldn't sleep. His mind kept turning the events of the past few days over and over.

Then Percy came up to bed. Harry tried to pretend he was asleep but, of course, he suddenly really had to go to the bathroom. Why did that always happen when he tried to pretend to sleep? Finally, he gave up and got up, trotting down the hall to the toilet. When he returned, Percy was sitting in bed awaiting him, venom in his eyes.

"Why did you come here?" The question was sharp, piercing.

Harry deliberately misinterpreted. "Your mum asked me to-"

"No. Why did you come? Did you come to laugh at us? To mock my dead brother's memory?"

"No, I-" He didn't know why. To offer comfort, he guessed, but he hadn't been doing a particularly good job of that. To help out? There wasn't much he could do with all of the Weasleys home too. To get away. He was here because he didn't want to go home, couldn't go home. The Dursleys were more than he could deal with after all of this. He felt miserable, admitting it to himself. He couldn't tell Percy. He just looked at his toes and let the man draw his own conclusions.

"I thought so. Well, then, be proud of yourself, we're hurting. Happy?" With that, Percy rolled over and huffed into silence.

Harry, too, was silent. He climbed into bed and soon entered his fitful sleep.

But how could he tell all of that to Dumbledore? The kindly old man sat smiling at him over his spectacles. "Unwelcome, sir. It...it was just a feeling."

Thankfully, the old man seemed to accept that. "Well, then, how can I help you?"

"Actually..." Harry worried his hands together, "I was wondering if I could stay here for the rest of the summer. I...I can't go back to the Dursley's."

He knew he was asking for a lot of understanding, but Dumbledore seemed to be in a generous mood.

"I suppose that can be arranged." The old man mused for a moment. "But I can't have you in Gryffindor Tower, or any of the other dormitory areas for that matter. There would be no way to ensure supervision. Even a single student is still the school's responsibility." Dumbledore began to walk toward the door, so Harry stood and followed him. "No, no, can't have you off on your own. You'll have to stay just down here."

The headmaster abruptly turned down a corridor next to the Great Hall Harry could have sworn hadn't existed a moment before. It was lined with highly decorative doors which they passed several of. Harry wondered briefly at the purpose of this wing before Dumbledore began to explain.

"This is the faculty wing. There is a living establishment in this wing for every professor at the school. Most of them have returned home for the summer, so the majority are empty. But we can't have you mussing up someone's quarters, now can we? Good thing a few subjects have been removed from the curriculum since the founding of the school."

The decorations on the doors were getting darker and dustier from disuse. "Ah, here." The headmaster threw open a door, revealing a rather comfortable, if dusty, apartment. "I trust this will do? You may find some quirks, but I doubt anything will bite. The password is 'Constant Vigilance.' Make yourself at home."

"Hey, that sounds like-"

"Alastor Moody, yes. Perhaps I should have shown him this room before...but we all made our sacrifices, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, we did. Thank you, Professor, for letting me stay..."

"I would have to say, it's my honor." With that, the headmaster turned and walked back off down the hall, leaving Harry to become acquainted with his new living quarters.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Empty. It echoed through the halls around Harry as he made his way through the cavernous passages. Walking through the entrance hall, listening to his footsteps echoing off the walls, felt almost like an out-of-body experience.

Only as he began to descend into the dungeons did the out-of-place feeling dissipate. It still felt empty, no surprise there. He was actually somewhat skeptical about his destination. On the say-so of a notoriously rather off- kilter portrait by the Great Hall, since he had been unable to locate anyone more reliable, he was heading into the dungeons in search of Lupin.

He knew that Lupin had moved into the school, having taken the again-vacant Defense Against the Dark Arts position and lacking a better home to retire to for the summer.

Now as Harry found himself deeper in the bowels of the school, he didn't know where to start to look, so he decided to move towards a semi-populated area.

Well, at least occupied by one person, he thought dryly.

But as he moved towards that particular area he started to hear voices.

Multiple voices.

As he neared the offending classroom, he started to hear bits of conversation between Snape and...Lupin?!

"Remus! You're not doing it right," he heard Snape bark out.

"Severus I'm doing the best I can. It just won't...fit." Lupin's response was followed by the sound of feet scuffling and the sound of someone bumping into a table. Harry's hand froze of the doorknob, unsure of whether of not he should go in.

"Remus, just hold still. It won't hurt."

"But...but, it's too...long!"

In the background Harry heard laughter...deep musical laughter. After a few minutes of scuffling Harry heard Snape yell, "Oh forget it! I'll put it in myself."

The laughter increased, then Lupin responded, "Oh Sev, you're no fun."

Okay now Harry was officially confused. If those two were...talking? Then who was laughing?

Braving the possibility of many years of therapy, Harry slowly opened the door to the classroom, closed his eyes, and called out, "Um, I'm not interrupting anything am I?" "What the...HARRY!"

Remus yelled, happily. Harry slowly opened his eyes, and was greeted by the sight of Lupin and Snape standing over a bright fire, surrounded by glass beakers. And there, half-collapsed with laughter, was Draco Malfoy.

Wait, Draco Malfoy?!

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry nearly growled. That sobered Draco right up, "None of your business Potter."

In an effort to diffuse the already tension situation, Lupin walked over to Harry and guided him farther into the room, away from Draco.

"Now Harry, last I checked you were staying at the Weasley's."

"I couldn't...Ron," Harry started but couldn't finish.

"Had a lover's spat with the Weasel, did you?" Malfoy snapped.

Harry froze. But after a few minutes he forced out, "Ron's dead." The silence in the room, if possible, intensified.

Draco mouthed nothing for a moment, doing a great impression of a fish, then finally croaked out, "I'm...sorry. I didn't know."

In an attempt to move on, Harry turned to Lupin, "Professor, are you staying in the faculty wing?"

"For the hundredth time, Harry, it's Remus. We went through a bloody war together, I think we can dispense with the niceties." Snape gave Lupin a funny look but let it pass.

"Remus, then, are you staying in the faculty wing?"

"No, I'm not. I will be staying down here in the dungeons for matters "

"Now, Remus," Snape began to make his way around the table, bringing his lower half into view. Harry knew he had been injured in the war, but it felt the first time he found out when he saw the cane and, while his robe covered most of it, his leg was a wee bit mangled. "No need to bite your tongue, the cripple can take it."

"Sev, you know-" Snape held up a hand and addressed Harry, "He's staying in the dungeons to save me the difficulty of climbing up stairs to...administer his wolfsbane potion."

Inexplicably, Malfoy collapsed laughing, yet again.

Harry shot Malfoy a look, "What the hell is wrong with you?!...Since when can Malfoy's laugh?"

The blonde pulled himself together enough to sneer, though rather more good- naturedly than was his habit. "Since...oh forget it."

Harry turned back to Remus, "So why don't you just come down to get it?" Remus tinged a bit at the cheeks, "Well, actually Harry-"

"He...tends to forget, Mr. Potter. And the dungeons are a more suitable location for his transformations, safe or not." Snape once again interrupted the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Harry wasn't sure just what he was missing, but it was obviously hilariously funny, as Malfoy was actually tearing in the corner.

"Well, Harry, I suppose I should ask you where you're staying, since I'm assuming you will be here for the summer." Lupin brought them back to the topic at hand.

"In the faculty wing. It's pretty nice."

Lupin didn't get to answer.

"The faculty wing?" Malfoy spoke up from the corner. "Yeah, why?"

"_I'm_ staying in the faculty wing."

"You're...here for the summer too?" Harry couldn't believe his luck, staying two months in the same hall as Draco Malfoy. "But, why?"

"I...I'd rather not talk about it Potter," Malfoy suddenly looked uncomfortable. Harry had never seen him like that, he didn't force the issue. Of course, since Harry didn't answer, and Malfoy had nothing to say, they immediately fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the bubbling cauldron.

After a short eternity, Snape swept, or, at least, attempted to sweep, his leg and cane prevented his previous fluidity, between them. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, I do believe Re-Professor Lupin has this under control," he indicated the cauldron, "so we can discuss that advanced course in my office." Snape turned around to address Remus, "Professor Lupin, if you could drop by my chambers after supper?" He began to leave, then turned again, "Oh, and bring the potion."

Malfoy was hardly breathing through his laughter, as he followed his Head of House out of the room. Harry turned to Remus, "What's with him? If I didn't know better I'd say he'd been hexed."

"More like he is a hex, but never mind all of that," the werewolf walked over to Harry, "how have you been?"

"As well as can be expected," Harry answered diplomatically.

"I know it's hard. It always is." His eyes got a far-away look, "It seems the good always die young. I remember your father-"

"He was twenty-two when he died. He had a son, a family, a job, a life. Ron was sixteen, he didn't even get a chance to graduate!"

Remus wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder, "I know. I know."

Harry and Remus spent quite some time catching up while the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor carefully tended the potion. Some half-hour before supper, they finally parted company to return to their respective rooms.

Harry made his way down the faculty hall, hoping that he would recognize the door. Ah, there it was he thought, "Constant Vigilance." Thankfully the door swung open.

Malfoy was sitting on his bed.

This _was_ his room, right? Yes, there was his trunk.

"Potter, we need to talk."


End file.
